


Furthermore

by chemistrykind



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemistrykind/pseuds/chemistrykind
Summary: A long-lost cousin of Merlin's comes to Camelot when his family becomes stranded. When he begins working for Arthur's fated bane, Mordred, Merlin must find out whether he can trust his family after all. [season 5 fic]
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Balinor's legacy

**Author's Note:**

> ,,please let this be a better platform than wattpad

It was sunrise during high summer when a stranger galloped into Camelot, throwing Merlin directly from slumber.

 _So this is Camelot,_ he heard a voice mutter in his head, and he blinked, sitting upright. He shook his head to clear it, only to hear the voice again. _Less impressive than I thought it’d be._

He turned sideways, pulling on his boots in a hurry. It would be an unusual comment for Mordred to make as a knight of Camelot, and the voice was certainly not Kilgarrah’s. No, this was somebody new.

He pushed his door open gently, hoping not to wake Gaius, but the physician was already up with the sun. He turned, raising an eyebrow.

“Merlin! It’s unusual to see you up and about this early.”

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m a dedicated manservant.”

Gaius gave him a dry look and opened his mouth as if to say more, but a loud rapping swiftly came at the door. The physician frowned. “I wasn’t expecting anybody at this hour. I wonder who that could be.”

He clumped forward with all the agility of a 70-year-old man, Merlin following somewhat cautiously behind. The door swung open.

“Thomas!” exclaimed Gaius, taking a step back. “How unexpected. I haven’t seen you in… ten years it must be, now.”

“And you haven’t changed a bit, Gaius,” chuckled the stranger at the door, his voice cracking unusually for his age.

Merlin crept closer to get a better look. He was a boy, looking to be around the same age Merlin had been when he had first come to Camelot, with two curved swords sheathed across his back. He was a little on the short side, but built like a bear, and Merlin noticed that the smallest finger on his left hand was missing. A few of his features looked Old Saxony, like he was from across the channel, but his dark eyes were definitely Anglo-Saxon. In fact, Merlin thought blearily, they reminded him of his father a little. He would not have thought as much if it were not for the charcoal sketch of his Balinor he kept next to his father’s carved dragon, under the floorboards with Gaius’ book.

“Come in, come in,” Gaius urged the boy, pulling the door open wider. “You must tell me how your mother is getting along.”

The boy sat down heavily on a bench, accepting the water Gaius passed him gratefully. Merlin noticed the bags under his eyes, like he’d been travelling all night.

“I’m afraid that’s the problem, Gaius,” he sighed. “We were attacked by a group of strangers in the Valley of Kings; she’s hurt pretty bad. I told her I was going to get you, since Camelot was so close by, but…” his brow furrowed. “She told me to find a man named Emrys before I returned for her. She said… your skills would not be enough.”

Gaius and Merlin exchanged a look.

“Emrys?” asked Merlin, double-checking he’d heard correctly.

The boy blinked, seeming to notice him for the first time. “Who are you?”

“Oh, where are my manners,” Gaius interjected, clapping himself on the forehead. “Merlin, this is your cousin, Thomas. Thomas, this is Merlin. He’s staying with me as the King’s manservant.”

“What?” both of them asked simultaneously.

“Wait, wait,” Merlin paused, trying to absorb the physician’s words. “You mean my mother has a brother? Or sister, I guess?”

Gaius swallowed. “I’m afraid not.”

Merlin blinked, and then froze, his jaw dropping. “Wait, I thought you said,” he hissed, “I thought you said Uther had, you know.” He tried not to say anything too revealing in front of his apparently-cousin.

Gaius shook his head. “Do not worry, Merlin, young Thomas knows his uncle’s legacy. Uther did indeed kill all the Dragonlords... but there is only one Dragonlord born to each family.”

“So you’re saying…”

“My father had magic,” Thomas interrupted. “But not that gift. There is nobody alive who carries it anymore, save the man I assume is your father, Balinor.”

Merlin cast another look at Gaius, shoulders slumped. “I think there’s something you’d better see.”

-

Thomas held the wooden dragon between his fingers, seemingly deep in thought. “We’ve both lost a father, then.”

Merlin sat down beside him on the bed, gentle as possible. “The Great Purge?”

Thomas nodded. “Mother and I fled to Cenred’s kingdom in hopes of avoiding Uther, for all the good it did us. The men lost during the battle with Camelot… it was a lawless place until King Lot took over.”

Merlin shuddered. “I can imagine. What brought the two of you back here, then?”

“We heard news of Uther’s death,” said Thomas simply. “I know not how his son will rule, but if he has a man like you by his side, surely things will improve.”

“You’d be surprised,” Merlin muttered, rubbing his hand together in the morning air as he stared out the window. He blinked as a thought occurred to him. “I don’t suppose you’re a sorcerer too, are you?”

“A druid,” Thomas admitted. “They gave us shelter when we travelled back, due to mother’s connections. But I’m nowhere near as impressive as you.” He nudged Merlin. “The last Dragonlord! Although I don’t suppose there are any left to command.”

“Just two.” Merlin grinned. Then the smile faded. “Who knows how long that’ll last, though. Still,” he added, laying a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “You must be careful while you stay here. Arthur no longer interferes with the druids, but magic is still banned. If you practice it, you’ll be caught and executed.”

Thomas squinted. “And a Dragonlord is staying right under the nose of Camelot’s King… I wonder how he feels about that.”

Merlin snorted, nudging him. “Believe me, the guy is a royal prat. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t my destiny to serve him. You, on the other hand…”

“Oh, who cares about destiny?” declared Thomas. “Besides, I won’t be staying here a moment longer than I have to. I’ve got to get back to my mother.”

“Right,” blurted Merlin, remembering. “Well, I’d better tell the King, then. I’ll get us a couple of horses and we can leave in a few hours, when I’ve found him a replacement. Meet me outside the court in an hour.”

Thomas nodded. “But, Gaius? We’ll need a physician.”

“You have one,” the man said from the door. He smiled wryly at Merlin. “Your cousin is quite skilled now.” His eyebrows drew together. “But Mabel looking for the legendary Emrys… she is a learned druid. There must be magic at work here.” He levelled his gaze at Merlin. “I don’t think I have to remind you what Morgana would do if she ever learned where to find Emrys.”

Thomas gave Merlin a confused look as the old physician shuffled away. “What was that all about? Do you know where to find him? Emrys, I mean?”

Merlin shook his head. “All I know is that one of Camelot’s greatest enemies is after him. But since we don’t have him…” he rose to his feet. “We’ll have to hope my magic is enough.”

-

“Good, you’re here,” whispered Merlin as his cousin jogged up, looking a little fresher. “Arthur’s an arrogant ass, but he should give me a day or two for family.”

Thomas nodded with a couple of deep breaths, as the door swung open.

“Merlin, there you are!” hollered Arthur from the gathered table of knights. “I was wondering where you’d got to. We need—“

“Sire,” interrupted Merlin. “I’m afraid I’ll need to leave you in George’s care for a few days. It’s urgent.”

“Not going on a trip to the tavern again, are you?” Arthur grinned, and a couple of the knights chuckled. He noticed the boy standing at Merlin’s side. “Who is this?”

“My cousin, sire.”

“Cousin? I didn’t know you had a cousin.”

Merlin took a deep breath to calm himself. “It’s my aunt, sire. She was gravely hurt, in the Valley of Kings. I need to check that she’s all right.”

Arthur paused, looking concerned. “The Valley of Kings? What happened?”

“A bandit attack, Your Majesty,” explained Thomas, looking nervous. “She needs a physician immediately.”

Mordred locked eyes with Merlin from across the table. _What happened? Magic was involved, wasn’t it?_ he asked, silently.

 _I don’t know yet,_ Merlin replied. _But yes, potentially._

“That’s a dangerous place to be, that’s for sure,” Arthur decided. “I’ll send one of my men to—“

“Sire, I’ll go,” said Mordred immediately, standing from the table.

Merlin swore to himself.

“Mordred?” Arthur blinked, somewhat surprised. “You’re certainly skilled, but you’re not the most experienced fighter. Are you sure you don’t want me to send someone else?”

Mordred fixed him with a steely look. “Merlin saved my life seven years ago. It’s time to repay that debt.”

Arthur shrugged. “Well, I won’t be the one to stop you. But, Merlin.”

“Yes, sire?”

“Don’t tarry too long.” Arthur grimaced. “I need somebody who won’t crack jokes about polishing brass.”

Merlin suppressed a smile. “Yes, milord.”


	2. Three Druids

Merlin swung the door shut, slumping down on the bench.

“Where’s Thomas?” enquired Gaius, turning around.

“Gone to get horses and supplies,” Merlin grimaced, “with Mordred. I can’t believe he volunteered to come with us. Why doesn’t he just stay out of it?”

“He’s keen to prove himself worthy as a knight of Camelot,” Gaius shrugged. “What else is there to say?”

Merlin paused, looking at Gaius. “Why did you tell Thomas who I was? You’re usually so keen to, y’know, keep my magic hidden.”

Gaius pursed his lips, swilling a clear bottle with yellow liquid inside. “I remember how you were when your father died. With Arthur in charge and Morgana searching for you… well, I know you don’t always feel like you can confide everything in me.”

“Of course I feel like I can confide in you!” Merlin said jumping to his feet. “Gaius, you’re… you’re like a father to me. I’m just worried that Thomas might turn out to be trouble later on.”

The physician set down his bottle, unexpectedly stepping forward to wrap his arms around Merlin. “You… when did you become the worrywart? That’s supposed to be my job.”

Merlin sighed, smiling wryly as he hugged the old man back. “I grew up, I suppose.”

Gaius released him, clapping him on the shoulder. “Be careful out there. The three of you may be sorcerers, but the Valley of Kings is dangerous. And Mordred must not find out that Thomas has magic… nor Thomas Mordred.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then good luck. And if you see any sorrel, make sure to bring some back with you. I’m afraid we’re running rather low.”

-

Merlin paced forward to the horses, catching his cousin by the elbow. “Thomas!” he hissed.

The boy nearly jumped about a foot in the air. “Yes, Merlin?”

“Take care not to tell Sir Mordred anything,” Merlin whispered, nodding at the knight fastening his baggage. “About your mother or our fathers. He may look friendly, but he’s still a knight of Camelot.”

Thomas nodded, a quirk to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing. I’m sure we can figure out a way to heal mother without him finding out.” He sighed, looking longingly at the knight. “But I wish I could. He’s an admirable guy.”

“An admirable guy who will get you executed,” replied Merlin, raising his eyebrows. “Now c’mon, we should get going.”

-

“So Thomas,” Mordred enquired politely as they rode, “how are you and Merlin related?”

“My f—“

“—ather is my uncle,” interrupted Merlin hastily, remembering how Mordred knew about his own father just in time. “My mother, Hunith… he was her brother.”

Thomas nodded, eyes flickering back and forth. “We were, uh, travelling back to Ealdor from Lot’s kingdom.”

Mordred nodded quietly. “Your father passed away?”

“Yes, sir,” Thomas replied, eyes fixed ahead of him. “He was killed when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Mordred, his voice quiet. “Mine, too.” Then he paused, raising a hand as he slid off his horse. “The Valley is just over this crest… but wait. Druids were here recently.”

Merlin and Thomas exchanged a look.

“Really?”

“Yes,” replied Mordred, kneeling down to pick up a feather. “This is a crossbill feather. They’re not usually found here, unless druids have them.”

Thomas gazed at him. “You are very knowledgeable about the druids.”

The corner of Mordred’s mouth twitched, and he glanced at Merlin, a couple of thoughts exchanged. “Standard training. Knights have to know how to track, after all.”

“Whoa,” Thomas breathed. “The druids are pretty careful about leaving tracks, though. That was impressive.”

Mordred’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at Thomas. “Why do you say that?”

Thomas swallowed. “Just hearsay.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, taking a few steps forward. “For whatever reason the druids passed through, we should press on. This place is swarming with enemies.”

“Of course,” said Mordred, taking his horse by the reins. “Lead on, then, Thomas.”

The boy nodded, picking his way down the path strewn with leaves. After a few more minutes they rounded a bend to enter a cave, Thomas rushing forward to call out. “Mother! Mother, are you there?”

“Thomas,” the woman said weakly. “Who is with you?”

Mordred and Merlin marched forward, stopping short at the sight of the woman. She had fair hair and clear blue eyes, her features resembling Thomas strongly. As Merlin stepped forward he noticed the wound in her side, tinged unusually black. Her eyes flickered forth between Mordred and Merlin.

_Emrys,_ she spoke into his mind. _You came._

Mordred jolted, elbowing Merlin. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Merlin lied, looking around.

“I thought I heard… never mind.” He knelt next to the woman. “You’re badly hurt. We should get you back to Camelot.”

Merlin shook his head, taking a closer look at the wound. “She wouldn’t survive the trip back. I’ll see what I can do.” He glanced at Thomas and Mordred. “I may need some privacy, though.”

“Of course,” they chorused, glancing at each other as they left.

“Emrys,” she mumbled. “That knight you came with… I recognise him from somewhere.”

“Of course you don’t,” replied Merlin hastily, carefully analysing her wound. “He’s a knight of Camelot. I’m Merlin, by the way.”

“Merlin,” she thought, wincing a little as he dragged alcohol across the wound. “I suppose the knight will be suspicious if I call you otherwise. I am Mabel. But, Emrys, this is no ordinary wound.”

“I thought as much,” he muttered. “Those bandits who attacked you, who were they?”

“The common kind,” she replied, “but without common weapons. Their blades are soaked in poison, made by the Priestess Morgana. I heard tell you were in Camelot, and thought your magic may be powerful enough to counteract it.”

“What about the druids you were travelling with?” he murmured, taking a sample of the blood to analyse. “And your own magic?”

Mabel shook her head painfully. “Nowhere near strong enough to counteract the magic of a High Priestess. They moved on a few days ago when I could not be healed.” She looked closer at him. “You remind me of William, you know. Thomas’ father.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lip. “I guessed you would’ve figured it out. I’m the son of Balinor, the last Dragonlord.”

She took a breath. “I should have guessed. Is the man doing well?”

“He passed away,” Merlin replied quietly. “A few years ago.”

Her expression was grim. “A tragedy. He was a good man.”

Merlin’s face tightened. “I think I can counteract this,” he said, “but it’s powerful magic. And it might hurt a bit. Sorry.”

He took a deep breath.

**Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare.**

Mabel shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “How powerful… with such a simple anti-poison incantation.”

“It didn’t work last time, that’s for sure,” said Merlin unhappily. “But as long as my magic is powerful enough to counteract Morgana’s, that’s enough for me. I don’t suppose you know why bandit are running around with her magic?”

“Commerce,” murmured Mabel. “She is amassing an army… as a sworn enemy of Camelot, her prices and willingness to perform magic are far higher than our own. I imagine the bandits were quite uninformed about who, exactly, they were dealing with.”

“I can imagine,” Merlin said. He glanced around. “We’ll make camp here for a day or so, and then I need to be back in Camelot. I don’t suppose you know where to find the druids?”

She shook her head. “They are more on edge than ever, caught between two vicious powers. And now that a knight of Camelot has seen me and my son… no, we must find refuge elsewhere.”

“How about Ealdor, with my mother?” Merlin suggested. “I told Mordred that Thomas’ father was her brother. She will be happy to look after both of you for a while, I’m sure.”

“I don’t… wish to be an imposition,” she gasped, still clearly in pain.

He shook his head firmly. “You two are all that’s left of my father. I won’t stand by and let you be hunted down by Arthur’s men.”

“You are very kind… Merlin.” She closed her eyes.

After ensuring the woman was stable, he gestured Mordred and his cousin back inside.

“Will she live?” Thomas asked, face pale and drawn.

Merlin nodded. “But the two of you can’t stay here. I’ll take you to Ealdor, to stay with my mother.”

Thomas blinked, and then a warm smile drew across his face. “You are immeasurably kind, Merlin.”

He shook his head. “Anything for family.”

Mordred glanced uneasily around and crouched down, checking the dampness in the cave. “We’ll camp here for tonight, then. Ealdor is not far; if we ride hard, we may be back in Camelot by nightfall.”

-

“So, Thomas, Gaius is your uncle,” Mordred said quietly, as they picked their way through the forest. “I assume this is why you came to Camelot for assistance?”

Thomas nodded, eyes fixed ahead of him. “Although I was not aware that I had a cousin until I met Merlin. I fear…” he broke off.

“You fear?”

“I fear I may have caused disruptions, sir." His expression was anxious, darting - Merlin couldn't figure it out. "For that, I apologise.”

Mordred shook his head, blinking his frosted eyes. “No need. Your mother was in peril. I understand.”

Merlin glanced at the woman now, sound asleep in the saddle. She had woken briefly this morning to eat, and insisted they depart as swiftly as possible (despite both Thomas’ and Merlin’s complaints). Now, as they drew close to the crest of a hill, Mordred reared back, taking stock of the valley ahead.

“We are here.” He glanced at Merlin. “Your hometown, Ealdor.”


	3. The Ghost of Agravaine

Merlin gnawed at his fingernail, spinning to face his companions. "Listen, it's probably best if I go in first. My mother gets a bit, um, stressed around visitors."

Mordred blinked. "Go ahead."

He knocked softly on the door and entered, closing it as a wave of emotions hit him. Childhood memories, antics... and Will's death.

"Merlin!" cried a voice, and it was his mother, running up to him to cup his face with both hands. Her wide brown eyes crinkled, a little surprised. "What are you doing in Ealdor?"

The corner of his mouth quirked, and she tilted her head, her lip wrinkling in the way it always did when she knew something was up.

"You've gotten yourself into another mess, haven't you?"

He sighed. "I have to ask you another favour. I might have.. sort-of accidentally invented you another brother."

_"What?"_

He sat her down quickly, biting his lip. "Mother, do you remember father's family?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "His parents were killed when he was young, I do know that much. It was why he became a Dragonlord so early. And I remember his brother, William, and his wife, Mabel, who stayed with us for a short while before moving on. Gaius stayed in touch, but I haven't heard from either of them in years."

Merlin swallowed. "They, um, they had a son. Yesterday... a boy called Thomas showed up in Camelot asking for a physician for his mother, and Gaius says he's my cousin. I went to go look after them, but... Arthur was suspicious. I couldn't tell him Thomas was related to Balinor. I said William was your brother."

His mother sighed. "And both of them are standing outside my door, aren't they?"

He scratched his cheek. "Maybe." Hastening on, he added, "Will you look after them, mother? Just for a few years, until I can convince Arthur to lift the ban on magic. I promise they won't cause too much trouble."

The corner of her mouth twitched, and she grasped both of Merlin's hands firmly in her own. "Of course I will, son. My house is Mabel's house, and her son's."

That wrung a wry smile out of him. "Thank you, mother."

She rose to her feet, opening the door wide to reveal Thomas and his mother, both looking very worried. "Come in, both of you."

"Where's Mordred?" asked Merlin, poking his head out.

"Gone to help one of the villagers," said Thomas, carefully helping his now-awake mother out of the saddle. "I think he will be back soon."

"Oh, Mabel!" Hunith gasped, rushing forward to help. "What happened, Merlin?"

"Bandits, apparently," grimaced Merlin. "She was badly hurt."

"Hunith," groaned the woman, swaying. "How many years has it been? Yet you have not changed."

"Nor you," Hunith beamed, and they hobbled into the house, Merlin's mother setting the woman down in a chair. "I'll fetch you some water."

"Thank you, Hunith," Mabel smiled weakly, and grasped her son's hand. "Merlin's mother looked after your father and I for many years, son. We owe her our lives."

Thomas blinked, a little surprised. "So you're the one mother and Gaius talked about so much. No wonder my uncle married you."

Hunith chuckled, bringing a pitcher from the cupboard. "I fear Balinor and I did not marry, child. But Merlin has been a blessing to both of us." She ruffled his hair, and Merlin flushed slightly.

Thomas sat down next to his mother with some concern, glancing up at Merlin. "So, what kind of magic did Balinor teach you? Mother's been trying to teach me things like healing, but she says I'm hopeless."

Merlin smiled wryly, perching down opposite the boy. "I didn't know my father for very long, and no, I was born with magic. Gaius is the one who's helped me the most."

Mabel nodded sleepily. "That sounds like the Gaius I know. Always getting himself into trouble." She glanced at Hunith. "Both of you. The Wyllt family is quite something."

"That explains how Merlin gets into such trouble, then," Hunith chuckled, clapping her son on the back as she sat with a steaming mug of tea. "I don't suppose you and William have got yourselves into too much strife, have you?"

Mabel shook her head sombrely. "After Gaius helped us over the border in Cenred's kingdom when Thomas was little, Cenred drafted his father in the army. I'm afraid Cenred was ruthless back in those days... William passed away after a fatal battle wound."

"I am sorry to hear it," Hunith murmured. "But yes. Cenred cared little for Ealdor, I'm afraid."

Mabel took a long draught from her cup. "I imagine you sent Merlin to Camelot to avoid stirring up trouble here?"

Hunith nodded. "Although Camelot has seen its fair share of troubles."

"Mother," Merlin added helpfully, "Arthur would've been dead years ago if it weren't for me. He's a complete cabbagehead."

She gave him a wry look. "You're lucky he's never found out about you. I'm just glad the two of you made it out of here alive three years ago."

Merlin shuddered. "Though Morgana still haunts us. We were both nearly captured last winter."

Hunith smiled. "But you weren't, thanks to this new knight, Mordred. I'm glad he's the one who brought you here."

Merlin swallowed. He had avoided telling even his mother about Mordred's part in inevitably ending the King's life, if Kilgharrah was to be believed. Still... knowing that the man fated to kill Arthur was happily training as a knight in Camelot worried him constantly. He feared it would only end in flames.

"Arthur says he's promising," Merlin admitted. "He plans to ride with him soon."

"Mordred's amazing," Thomas added, addressing his mother. "He's incredibly smart, and he knows all kinds of things."

"You've only known him for a day," Merlin snorted, tapping his cousin lightly on the shoulder. "Try dealing with the knights breathing down your neck 24/7, giving you flowers and constantly asking to carry things for you... they're addled, I swear."

Even Mabel and Hunith were giving him strange looks, now.

"Flowers?" Mabel questioned. "Have you cast some sort of love spell on them?"

"No, no!" Merlin protested, holding up his hands. "I don't know why they follow me around all the time."

"They're jealous of you and Arthur, I expect," replied Hunith gently. "It's obvious to anyone how much you care for him."

Merlin squinted in confusion. "Are you _serious_?" He snorted. "Arthur is a clotpole."

"A _what?"_ asked Thomas.

"A clotpole," explained Merlin. "You know, an idiot with the brain of a dic-"

"Merlin!" roared a voice from the door, light spilling into the room. They all spun around. "Merlin," Mordred wheezed again, "there's trouble."

Merlin stood. "What sort of trouble?"

"A man in the village square." Mordred fought to catch his breath. "He's gone insane. He keeps muttering your name. He says... he says he's going to kill you."

Thomas gave his cousin a look. "When you said people here didn't like you, I didn't think you meant it like _that_."

Merlin furrowed his brow. "I guess I'd better go see what he wants."

"I'm coming with you," Thomas declared.

"So am I," Mordred added grimly.

-

Merlin walked cautiously through the square. Up ahead was a farmer he had known for most of his childhood, writhing and shaking. "Emrys!" the man screamed. "You traitorous sorcerer, I'm coming for you!"

His blood ran cold. "B, Ben?" he whispered, Thomas and Mordred hurrying up beside him. "It's me. Merlin."

The old farmer turned to him in a flash of recognition, with an unfamiliar glint in his eye. "Oh, I remember you, _Merlin_. But my question is... do you remember me, after all these years?"

Merlin froze, his eyes glazing gold. In a jolt, the farmer took on a horribly different appearance - tall, froglike, and greasy, with robes of the royal court on him. Merlin remembered that face. He remembered the cold, dark caves of his childhood where he had seen the man last, torches roaring and men bellowing. He remembered the wrath of Kilgharrah that day, and of the haunting flashes of fear, when the man had revealed Merlin's identity. The fear that Arthur would find out, once and for all. And the gripping guilt that had followed in the wake of that day. Yes, he remembered that face.

"Agravaine," he whispered. "It's you."

The farmer leapt forward, grasping him by the collar to lift him with inhuman strength. "Little Merlin, Arthur's serving boy. Oh, how I wondered what a nuisance you were. When you killed me, you left me here for years, bound to this earth with _rage_. But I _will_ have my revenge."

"Merlin!" Mordred yelped, dashing forward, but Merlin raised a hand.

"Wait." He was still, staring at the man. "This burden is mine to bury."

Agravaine tilted his head, drawing a butcher's knife from his belt. "No magic this time?"

Merlin stared into his cold eyes. "I regret killing you, Agravaine. Every day, for the last three years. But..."

"But what?" The man snarled, pointing the knife at his throat.

Merlin glowered. "You hurt Arthur more than you can possibly know. You broke his spirit."

Agravaine paused, a sneer on his face. "Don't think you can-"

"You were the final family member to leave him, and you were the one that broke him the most, after Uther died," Merlin whispered. "And for that, I could not forgive you. I will never forgive you."

Agravaine snarled and swept his knife across Merlin's throat... only for it to break with a horrible screech, two pieces spinning to the floor. Merlin froze.

"That's _enough!"_ screamed Thomas, running forward to punch the man in the side.

The farmer dropped Merlin like a hot coal and staggered backwards, choking wildly.

"Merlin, I don't care who this man is to you," Thomas growled, drawing the two curved blades from his back. "You're my only cousin. I _will not_ let you stand here and be killed by him."

"Careful, Thomas," Merlin warned. "Don't hurt the man. He's possessed by a spirit."

Thomas faltered. "A, a spirit?"

"An apparition of the deceased." Merlin lowered a gaze at the farmer. "Though a man without magic appearing outside of the spirit realm..."

Agravaine broke into a wheezing chuckle. "Your cousin? Jeez, I've been going about this all the wrong way."

"What?" Merlin froze.

The man drew a _second_ knife, grinning maniacally. "Killing you won't make you suffer as I did for Ygraine's death! No, no, that's won't do." He readied himself. "You must lose family too."

Too late, Merlin realised what the man meant. Too late, he saw the knife fly from the man's hand, intended for Thomas. And too late did he focus his magic on the blade, desperate to save his cousin.

Yet it wasn't too late for Mordred.

The knight jerked as the knife hit him with the skill and precision of a man who has trained to throw weapons since childhood. He slumped, slowly falling to his knees.

"M," Thomas whispered, "Mordred."

"Blasted knight," muttered Agravaine, marching forward with yet a _third_ knife.

**No.**

Agravaine froze where he stood. "Let..." he choked. "Let me go."

 **No,** said the voice again. With a jolt, Merlin realised the words were coming from his cousin. **Begone, demon.**

And the man jerked uncontrollably, shuddering as something pale and blue drew forth from his mouth. Merlin grimaced - this was uncannily similar to what Elyan had gone through three years ago. With a final gasp, the farmer collapsed, the spirit plunging into the earth with a screech.

"Thomas," Merlin breathed. "Thomas, what did you do to him?"

Thomas stood in a kind of a stupor, words issuing from his mouth that didn't sound quite his own. "Sent him back to hell, where his soul his destined to rest." He swallowed. "Something magical was keeping him here, though I cannot be sure..." he jerked out of his stupor. "Mordred!"

And he dashed forward, cradling the knight in his arms. Mordred groaned, seemingly only partly conscious.

"Merlin, you must heal him," Thomas urged him.

Merlin swallowed, hesitant. "I don't know if I..."

"Merlin, he _saved my life_ ," Thomas said forcefully. With exasperation, he shook his head. "I'll do it myself, then."

And he drew the knife slowly out of Mordred, pressing down to staunch the bleeding as much as possible. Merlin looked on, wary but curious about his cousin's powers.

**Wel cene hole.**

The wound vanished. Merlin's jaw dropped.

"What in god's name... Thomas, you're powerful."

The boy didn't seem to hear him, gently shaking Mordred. "Come on, sir, please wake up."

After a few moments the knight groaned, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to lift his head. "What... Thomas." He blinked, noticing the farmer's unconscious form as Merlin hurried over to check that Ben was, in fact, breathing. "What happened to the spirit?"

Thomas and Merlin exchanged a look.

"It vanished, sir," Thomas replied. Merlin noticed that he was still holding on tightly to the knight, as if Mordred might drift away any moment (if only). "I suppose it thought your death was sufficient."

Mordred's white eyes shifted to rest on Merlin, who felt distinctly uneasy. "I see." He inspected his chest, where there was a clean break in his chainmail. "The knife..."

"Oh, I... took it out and cleaned your wound," Merlin said, biting his lips as he exchanged a look with Thomas. "You've been out for, er, hours."

"Merlin said it was only a shallow wound," Thomas added helpfully.

Mordred raised his eyebrows, sitting up. "Well, I feel fine. Is the farmer all right?"

"Yes!" yelped Merlin. "In fact, he's, uh," he checked the man's breathing, "he's recovering well. Spirit possession recovery, y'know, it's a long journey."

The farmer abruptly sat upright, nodded to Merlin with a vague "Eh," and wandered off.

Mordred got shakily to his feet. "Merlin... do you think we could talk, before we go?"

"Of course," said Merlin abashedly, exchanging one last glance with his cousin before ducking behind the nearest house.

Mordred followed suit. "Thanks," he smiled quietly. "For the spirit, and healing me. I know keeping your magic from Thomas must be hard."

Merlin noticed that his father's nephew had now graduated from "your cousin" to "Thomas".

"Erm, yeah," he coughed, "yeah, it's tough. But I've had loads of practice, I guess. Are you feeling all right?"

"Pretty good," Mordred blinked, adjusting a shoulder. "Honestly, Merlin, I thought you hated me or something. I'm glad we're on good terms now."

He clasped Merlin's shoulder before leaving to go talk to Thomas.

 _Honestly,_ Merlin thought, shaking his head as he walked to catch up to them. _Sometimes I cannot believe that man will ever kill Arthur._


	4. Promotion

Merlin propped Mordred up on a faded armchair in his mother's house, pressing a tonic into his hands as he mended the man's tunic.

"The bleeding on the surface of your skin may have stopped, but there's still going to be some internal damage your body needs to fix. You've lost a lot of blood." And Thomas, powerful magician as he was, was no skilled physician.

Of course Merlin wanted Arthur to live, but it seemed like foul play to leave his killer to die slowly over the next year. Maybe it was making the same mistakes as he had with Morgana four years ago, but the look on her face as she was poisoned still kept him up at night, sometimes. Right next to Agravaine's. He cursed himself.

"Thank you, Merlin," the man smiled. His face fell. "I fear I may not be able to protect you as I did on the way here, though." He leaned in. "I presume it would be unwise for the king's servant to be seen performing magic to defend himself."

A wry smile tugged at Merlin's lips. "I suppose you're right." He leaned back. "Well, we can wait a few days. Arthur will just have to suffer without me."

"Oh, I can escort you two back to Camelot!" Thomas jumped in eagerly. "Don't delay your journey on my behalf, I beg of you."

Merlin raised his eyebrows with a smile, turning his head to regard his cousin with amusement. "And I suppose you're handy with a sword?"

Thomas nodded vigorously. "I got rid of the bandits attacking mother." He laid a hand on the grip of one of the swords he'd drawn that morning. Merlin noticed both of them had a hole in the pommel, and holes punctured along the length of the blade, like an altered ring-sword. "Ever since father began training me, I've mastered the two blades."

Merlin eyed the mismatched blades with interest. "Two swords... I've not heard of such a combination before. Aren't they heavy?"

The boy shrugged. "Father used to tell me it was common practice in Cenred's army. Less so now under Lot, as so many dual wielders fell in the battle against Camelot."

"Well, I've no objection. But you should ask your mother."

Thomas spun to face his Mabel, eyes brimming with hope.

She sighed. "It's rare to see you so concerned for any man of Camelot, let alone a knight, Thomas."

He flushed. "I just want to look after my cousin! And they are delayed because of _my_ hesitation today. I owe Sir Mordred my life."

Mabel raised her hands. "I will not stand in your way." She smiled warmly. "Who knows? Perhaps you could ask His Majesty about training for knighthood while you visit."

"I'm not becoming a knight," he snorted, pushing at her arm. "Knights fight with a sword and a shield. And for Camelot. I'd just as soon become a servant like Merlin."

"Good luck with that," Merlin chuckled. "I've nearly been fired several times. I _was_ fired once. And Uther only promoted me because I saved Arthur's life by chance."

"What is it like?"

"Huh?"

"Being in Camelot." Thomas looked down. "I've always wondered."

Merlin broke into a smile. "Well, the castle is beautiful. The knights are infuriating. But the townspeople and the Queen are very kind. It's all right, honestly. Even if I have to look after a cabbagehead every day."

"That's the King you're talking about," Mordred said dryly. "Couldn't he put you in the stocks for treason?"

Merlin snorted. "He already does." The grin disappeared from his face, and he turned his head slightly. "Besides, he's got more to worry about than putting me in the stocks," he muttered to himself.

"Well," said Hunith, whisking over to tug a tunic from the armchair, "if you leave today, you'd better get packing. You don't want to get locked out of the castle."

"Yes ma'am," said Thomas respectfully, getting to his feet. "Thank you for your generosity towards my mother and I." He addressed Mabel. "I'll see you tomorrow, if we are not held up."

She smiled wryly, holding out a hand to ruffle his hair. "Don't get into any more trouble."

"Yes, mother."

Merlin hauled Mordred to his feet. "All done."

"Thanks, Merlin." 

He donned his tunic and armor, stretching with a slight grimace.

"Right. I guess we'd better get going." Merlin wrapped his arms around his mother. Ever since the fall of Camelot, he had become significantly more affectionate about letting his mother know how much he loved her, just in case. "I'll come home with Gaius for Samhain, just as I promised."

She hugged him back. "Stay safe, son."

-

It was inevitable, Merlin thought to himself, that they would run into trouble _again_ before reaching Camelot. He ducked a whistling spear from a bandit, hissing under his breath to tie the man's boots together. Magic users were absolutely lethal in battle; being in several life-or-death situations, Merlin had realised that there was actually No Solemn Interdict stopping you from snapping half a dozen soldiers' neck in battle. In fact, many scripts on magic had quite detailed sections on how to efficiently kill large numbers of soldiers in battle with powerful spells. Maybe he would invent some crazy powerful spell to forbid that when he figured it out - no writing down ridiculously powerful spells where bad people find them easily. He would call it the Interdict of Merlin. He snickered.

The smile melted off his face as he dodged _another_ spell. Of course, it was significantly harder to abuse spells like that when your King had forbidden any magic on penalty of death (that was part of why Uther had been so successful sniffing out sorcerers - you either got found out when you fought, or never used magic at all). Snapping a bandit's neck would definitely smell suspicious without fingerprint bruises. Still, he thought as he tied another man's shoelaces together, magic was ultimately very useful on the battlefield.

"This is a _lot_ of bandits," he hollered at Thomas. "You didn't say there were this many!"

"There weren't!" his cousin hollered back, being pressed back against him. "Besides, we left the Valley of Kings!"

"Fair point!"

A tall blonde man drove his knife towards Merlin, only warded off in the nick of time by Mordred to his right. The man was panting, looking slightly worse for wear, but still fighting with all his might. With grim determination Merlin hefted an unfamiliar greatsword from the ground and nearly fell over from his weight. Checking to see nobody was looking, he cast a spell of weightlessness under his breath and dove back into the fray, swinging in a great arc with abandon (for all of Arthur's efforts to teach him swordsmanship, Merlin had never really had the stamina or concentration for it).

"Merlin, behind you!" roared Mordred.

Merlin spun around too late to spot a 5-foot gremlin of a woman swinging a bat that looked twice as heavy at his greatsword at him. A gigantic _thud_ filled his everything, quickly following by the heaviest, most awful pain he had experienced since Arthur's fun revenge training session last Saturday (he might've drawn a smiley face on the King's helmet). A ringing piercing right through his skull screeched so loud that he dimly felt his legs shake and stagger, and his eyesight was out of the question. He came to some time later (he wasn't quite sure) on his hands and knees, puke emptying violently out of his stomach.

"Merlin," hissed Mordred, nudging him with a foot. Merlin could dimly hear him fending off attackers above. "Merlin, are you all right?"

"Peachy," Merlin choked, hurling up his lunch again.

Mordred staggered a little, then went down on one knee, fighting off two heavy blows at once. With a hiss of exhaustion, he pushed himself to his feet, but he looked like he had about exactly fifteen seconds of fight left in him. Merlin _concentrated_ as hard as he could, trying to summon his magic, but the ringing in his ears became more pronounced and he retched up bile, pouring like acid down his throat.

Then Mordred fell to his knees for a second time, and it seemed he could not get back up this time.

_"Mordred!!"_ Merlin dimly heard Thomas shriek, and the battlefield turned into a whirlwind of chaos.

Merlin squinted, trying to make the scene out - his cousin had become some kind of demon, blades whipping with impossible frequency as he spun and intercepted moves with a reaction time that should have been impossible for a mortal. With a vicious twist of his blade, he sank his ring-sword into the last rogue standing, before Mordred.

Mordred groaned, and Merlin realised belatedly that he had fallen unconscious on his knees momentarily, refusing to collapse on his knight's honour. "Thomas... you saved my life."

"And mine," Merlin got out, pressing a hand to his head. "Thanks."

With his wits a little more together, he summoned what he could of his magic to clear his head, just in case he had a concussion (which was probably likely).

Thomas bowed his head, abashed. "It was nothing, sir."

Mordred fought to stand, Thomas rushing to assist him as he did. "You did... all this." There was a note of wonder in his voice. "Incredible."

Merlin got to his feet next to the two of them, and fully appreciated what Thomas had done. All twenty bandits lay at their feet, unconscious or dead.

"Christ, Thomas," he muttered.

"I'll have you knighted for this. " Mordred swore to himself.

Thomas shook his head. "King Arthur trusts easier than his late father, but not that easily. I saved your life, not his."

"Hello?" said Merlin weakly. "King manservant over here? Whose life you also saved?"

They ignored him.

"A place in the royal household, then," Mordred pressed. "You were talking about Camelot as if you would be keen to stay with us. Besides," he added, looking at Merlin for the first time since he'd fainted, "you'd see a lot more of your uncle and cousin."

"You offer is... greatly appreciated, sir." Thomas swallowed. "But I'm not exactly sure what use someone like me would be there."

"There are plenty of opportunities," Mordred replied easily. "Palace cook, apprentice... you could even work for me, if you like."

Thomas brightened. "Really?"

"Really."

"I'd... I'd like that, sir."

"Master, then," Mordred said, a wry smile upon his usually reserved features. "And I'd like that too."

Thomas nodded with a little grin of his own, wringing Merlin's hands. "Can you believe it, Merlin? Me, in Camelot..."

"I'd never have believed it," chuckled Merlin. "But I'm pleased for you."

_As long as Mordred and Thomas never find out about each other,_ he thought grimly. On his own, Mordred was a force to be reckoned with... but it was becoming clear to Merlin that if Mordred did betray Arthur, his fellow druid, master swordsman, and worrying powerful sorcerer cousin would be tagging along. _And I'm not sure that being his cousin would stop him._


End file.
